Page 45 of Truly, Madly, Deeply
“You do know that most police officers are heroes.” He moved a strand of hair from her eyes. “Imagine life without them.”
“Of course.” Reagan was horrified that she had come across as if she believed anything else. “I have the highest respect for everyone wearing a badge, Luke. You know that.”
“I do.” He raised his brow, his expression gentle. “As long as it’s not your son.” He didn’t wait for a response. “Just think about that, Reagan. When you talk to Tommy.”
Reagan thanked him for the talk and when Luke was gone she sat down and stared at her empty coffee cup. A different kind of sick came over her. Had she come across that way to Tommy? Like she thought police work was something less than being a doctor or a lawyer? That wasn’t how she felt at all.
Police officers… firefighters… first responders. All of them put their lives on the line every day. Their job description was simple—help people, help society.
Another coffee. That’s what she needed. She got in line behind a trio of teenage girls and at the same time a pair of police officers entered the coffee shop. A man and a woman. Both black. They were chatting, smiling as they got in line behind Reagan.
Probably somebody’s husband… someone’s wife. The son and daughter of parents who likely supported them. People who were proud of them. Did they have children, little ones hoping their daddy or mommy would come home at the end of the day? Every day?
Reagan wanted to hug them. Instead she turned and smiled. “Thank you. For your service.”
“Of course.” The male officer was quick to respond. “It’s our pleasure.”
Our pleasure. The words stayed with Reagan as she stepped up and ordered another coffee. She paid for her drink and slid her card forward. “I want to pay for whatever the officers are having.”
“Okay.” The guy behind the counter took her card and grinned. “I love when people do that. It’s only right.”
“Yes.” Reagan took her drink to her table and waited while the police officers ordered. Both of them looked back at her and waved.
“Thank you.” The woman smiled and held up her coffee. “Means a lot.”
After they left, Reagan collected her credit card andwent to her car. For a long while she sat behind the wheel, staring at the bushes in front of her. The next call could cost the officers their lives. Yet here they were, smiling between tasks. Doing the job they were called to do.
“Lord, You see my heart.” She whispered even as tears filled her eyes. An image came to mind. The same two officers coming to her door with somber faces. Middle of the night. She shook her head. “No, Father. I can’t lose Tommy. I cannot.” She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned back against the headrest. “Change his mind, God. Please. Give him another passion so—”
The male officer’s words hit her again.
It’s our pleasure.
In a single moment, her fear faded. She still had questions, still desperately wanted Tommy to change his mind. But for the first time since Tommy had told them about his decision, Reagan understood why her son wanted to be a cop. It wasn’t merely that he felt a duty or obligation to serve his community. Being an officer was something he truly wanted to do.
The job would be Tommy’s pleasure, too. Reagan could feel that now with all her soul. And if that’s how Tommy felt, how could she be anything but supportive? If spending his life in a police uniform was what Tommy wanted, Reagan had to find a way to feel the same. For Tommy’s sake.
Even if the struggle lasted the rest of her life.
16
The cracking sound split through the air and Tommy stopped, the wind cold on his face. He was walking with Annalee across the frozen Eagle Creek Reservoir just northwest of Indianapolis. But now… now all around them came the sound of cracking ice.
“Annalee!” He shouted her name. What was happening? They’d done this before and the ice never gave way.
But then, it was way too warm for the reservoir to be frozen. Also neither of them had fishing gear.
“Why are we doing this?” Annalee looked up at him. They were holding hands, walking farther out to the center of the water. “Maybe we should go back!”
Tommy’s teeth chattered. And suddenly he realized what was happening. The ice wasn’t thick enough. It had to be four inches thick before it was safe for ice fishing.
More cracking. Louder, and coming from all around them. Then Tommy saw something that stopped his heart. Lines were appearing in the ice. Faster and deeper. “Annalee!” He shouted her name and pushed her toward shore. “Run!”
But the moment they took their first steps back toland, freezing water bubbled up between the cracks and the ice beneath them began to sink. “Annalee! Get down!”
She dropped to her knees and he did the same. The only way to keep from falling through the ice was to disperse their weight. Tommy knew that. But it wasn’t helping. The water was rising, the ice cracking faster, louder.
And then just as they made a few feet progress toward land, the ice supporting Annalee gave way. “Tommy… help!”
